So it’s the weekend of Valentine’s day here in the great city of Mendoza. Normally I’d be hating said weekend, since I’m usually conveniently (or not so conveniently) single for the Holiday of Love. However, this year I have a wonderful Valentine..except he’s thousands of miles away. Dammit. But, I’m not depressed or sad that it’s Singles Awareness Day (or weekend, in this case), because I’m hanging around living la vita bella here and making new friends. Yay!  Also, just got an email suggesting that me and 2 of the other girls hit the spa on Monday night for a 2-for-1 spa special, so that could be very relaxing.

Last night my friend who took me to the music on the rooftop event came through AGAIN and invited me to go with her and her husband to Jazz in the Park, a 3-night mini jazz concert festival in Parque General San Martin, the biggest park in Mendoza. The park itself is gorgeous; it has a huge man-made lake, running trails, giant fountain, tons of little areas, weeping willows, a health club, etc. It’s huge, and I think I’ve only seen a part of it so far. But anyway, the jazz is set up on the “lake”shore with chairs all around and some elevated tables and chairs in the back with waiter service. The event is totally free and it’s part of the series of events leading up to the Vendimia. The music was actually awesome, and culminated with a band who had a Brazilian bossa nova singer with them who had an incredible voice. We drank Andes beer and ate empanadas while listening to some seriously good music. It was over at 12 or so, and we walked home the other way from the way we came in.

This is kind of interesting. Turns out, at night on weekends here, teenagers and early 20-somethings take their cars up to the road in the park, parallel park them, open all the doors or trunk and have a little party where they blast bad techno music and drink crappy beverages akin to Smirnoff Ice and others. I really wish I had my camera out to capture the amount of mullets, rattails and dreadlock mullets I saw. Yes, dreadlock mullets.

I’m told that families do it too, earlier in the day or on Sunday afternoons for barbecues, but that late on Sunday the teens and college kids take over and it’s unbearable to be there past 4pm.

It reminded me a little of what they do in Queens under the Triboro bridge, is it? I always get my bridges mixed up.

So I got to go to my first asado this past weekend. I think it’s my Lonely Planet: Argentina book that says you would be lucky to be invited to an asado when you are here, and they were right. We spent the day relaxing by the pool and eating amazing meat and fresh vegetables while looking at the mountains and riverbed below.  This was all courtesy of my awesome roommates, who in addition to having a place in the city, have a cabin in the countryside about an hour outside the city. It was so idyllic and was just perfect after being overwhelmed by being in a new place with such a foreign feel.

Mate (mah-tay, not “mate”) is an interesting thing. It’s tea, of course, but the etiquette around it and the cultural obsession with it here are the parts that really make it stand out. So, it’s yerba mate tea and you can add sugar and/or some other flavoring to it. Then you pour hot water all over the loose leaves and drink it out of this gourd-shaped cup out of a silver bent straw. The idea is you share it with friends, and each time you get the cup, you drink it until the water is gone. Then, the water is refilled and you give it to the next person sharing mate with you. Again, this is probably something you’ll get to do if you have friends here or if you’re traveling with friends, but I seriously doubt ol’ Frederico or whoever is going to ask you to join his little mate circle if you’re backpacking through town. Maybe I’m wrong – the Mendocinos are pretty friendly. But I was pretty psyched to get to have some today already. The taste is a little strong, but I guess you get used to it. Plus, it’s more caffeinated than coffee, so I have a feeling it will come in handy with work.

Random observation: You need to be a NINJA to cross the street here. Sure, there are stoplights. The drivers may even stop at them (I’ve seen some run a few, but mostly, they’re law-abiding citizens…ish). But there are major intersections of busy streets where there is no light. There is not even a stop sign sometimes. If you’re driving a car, you just basically pull a “California stop” and roll on through after slowing down to see if someone’s gonna t-bone you. And through all of this, you, the pedestrian, are trying to cross the street. At the normal place where a crosswalk is.  It’s kinda scary. Luckily, my NYC jaywalking skills are finally rewarded!